


Antonia J Crowley Hates Waiters

by WriteItOtt



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Antonia J Crowley, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Share a Brain Cell (Good Omens), Aziraphale is So Done (Good Omens), Crack, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Spoils Her Wife, Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), F/F, Fluff and Humor, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Inspired By Tumblr, No Beta, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Silly, We fall like Crowley, Zira Fell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26058550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteItOtt/pseuds/WriteItOtt
Summary: The Ineffable Wives dine out and make a discovery about Crowley's eating habits 6000 years in the making.Rated T for mild swearing.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 53





	Antonia J Crowley Hates Waiters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quefish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quefish/gifts).



> For the lovely and ineffable Quefish, who asked for silly Wives fics and apparently couldn't find any. I am, if nothing else, a demon of my word and am happy to present this utter nonsense. <3

Another evening, another sumptuous dinner at an expensive restaurant cooked by a world-class executive chef.

The ambiance of the dining room couldn’t have been more perfect for a romantic night on the town in Crowley’s rather experienced opinion. In fact, she had decided shortly after being seated with her date to leave a commendation with the hostess complimenting the front-of-house on a ‘classically romantic yet understated and tasteful setting’.

Graceful and bold architectural curves featured across the top of the far wall as one entered the grand dining room, casting a myriad of eye-catching shadows down the length of the feature wall from the subtle lights tucked into the curves above. A line of seven round, Art Deco-inspired chandeliers hung down the length of the vaulted room casting an inviting, incandescent light that reminded one of the golden pre-dawn hours of the day. Sweeping curved banquettes divided the expansive dining area in half with curves that mirrored the architectural feature wall in a calming, zen-like wave and created nearly-private pods for those lucky or wealthy enough to be seated there. Golden-hued wooden tables sat spaced out along the edges of the room in between sweeping draperies that hung from the ceiling in delicate waterfalls of fabric to create a colonnade and ensured the diners at the tables felt as private and ‘VIP’ as those in the central banquettes. Even the table settings were lavishly understated with no typical fine-dining white tablecloths, only a sheer golden tulle that lay across the warm tones of the wooden tables like the finest strands of metal and reflected light onto the cut crystal candleholders and glassware.

The five-course epicurean menu was as perfect for the hedonistic, food-loving woman sitting across the table from Crowley as if it had been designed specifically for her. The soft curves of the blonde’s body bounced and jiggled enticingly when she gave an excited wiggle at the sight of the food on offer. Rich, flavorful Norfolk crab with Granny Smith apple and avocado; duck liver ballotine topped with damson and pistachio; even Kentish strawberry with vanilla and lime for the dessert course. The menu was nearly as sumptuous and intriguing as the thought of watching the blonde enjoy it, the tall ginger thought secretly as she listened to her date ooh and ahh over it.

In short, it was **exactly** the sort of place for a flashy, impeccably fashionable woman like Antonia J Crowley to bring a date.

Unfortunately, the aesthetic was as far as her appreciation extended.

The first course and the second course arrived with ill-timing, the blonde being nearly finished with both courses before Crowley even received her own, and the feature course of Cornish Turbot in a champagne reduction with leeks and caviar was nearly stone-cold by the time it appeared in front of the increasingly-aggravated redhead! In fact, the only thing keeping the woman in her seat and not turning her legendarily lethal temper on the manager and the head chef was the fact that her companion was still happily _experiencing_ her meal with occasional wiggles of delight and barely contained moans of contentment.

When the third course plates were taken away both the waiter and Crowley’s enchanting date eyed the more than half-full plate in front of the redhead, but the discerning waiter decided not to further test the patience of the already-seething woman and did not ask if everything had been alright with the fish course.

“Toni, sweetheart… is something wrong with the cuisine?” Zira ventured, sipping the crisp white that had been paired with the fish. “You’ve barely eaten anything at all tonight and you said you were hungry before we decided on the epicurean menu…”

Toni fixed the blonde with a withering look over the top of her Valentinos.

Zira sighed and rolled her eyes at her wife’s dramatics. “Fine. Obviously something is the matter or you would be much better company this evening,” she huffed, her perfect Cupid’s-bow mouth pursing in annoyance. “Are you going to _tell me_ what the matter is or sit there sulking and terrorizing the poor waiter all night?”

“Well, you saw it! You were sitting right there!” Toni replied with a petulant frown. She drummed one set of perfectly-manicured nails on the table and scowled toward their waiter as he passed by with another table’s food.

“Oh for - All I saw was you stare around the dining room until your food got cold and then yell at the poor boy like it was his fault,” Zira snipped. Honestly… Some days Antonia wasn’t just a handful, she was a whole truck-ful.

Toni choked on her breath and shot upright at Zira’s accusation, sputtering indignantly. “‘Stare around until my food got cold’? What the bloody hell are you talking about, Angel?” she finally spat out. “My food was nearly five minutes later than yours for the first two courses, and the turbot was already cold by the time it showed up! Why the hell wouldn’t I have been upset with that nonsense?!”

The blonde’s pursed lips quirked into an unsure look as she scrutinized the redhead across the table. Crowley couldn’t possibly be serious, could she?

“Darling, are your glasses obstructing your view? I know the lighting is on the dimmer side, but you’ve always had exceptional night vision and they’ve never caused you an issue before…” Zira mused in utter bewilderment.

“My - my glasses? What the devil are you on about?” the indignant demon growled. “First you tell me my food _wasn’t_ late arriving when _obviously_ it was and now you’re accusing me of being blind? What the _fuck_ , Zira?”

Unfortunately for the haggard waiter but fortunately for the state of the women’s relationship, the fourth course arrived before the angel could verbally smack some sense into her wife. Tender morsels of Beef Tournedos with lovage and delicate slices of smoked bone marrow were sat gingerly in front of the blonde and the redhead and the paired red wine was poured for both before the waiter quickly beat a hasty retreat from the table.

Zira looked delighted as ever and gave her customary wiggle of anticipation before picking up her utensils to dig in, her annoyance at her wife forgotten in the face of such culinary delights. Her annoyance was quick to reassert herself, however, when the demon across the table scoffed in disbelief again and began craning around in search of the waiter once again.

“Crowley. What is your problem? Just enjoy your food; you haven’t even tried it yet! How do you know there’s anything wrong with it yet?” she sighed.

The redhead stared at her wife as if the voluptuous blonde had spontaneously grown another head. “Haven’t even tried it yet? Of course I haven’t tried it yet, you daft twit! They only brought yours again!”

“Crowley, this isn’t funny,” Zira stated seriously. “You wanted to come out for date night and all you’ve done since we’ve been here is complain, harass the waitstaff, and make an exceptional effort at ruining what should have been a nice evening! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m **_hungry_** , Angel! You’ve gotten to eat three whole courses so far and all I’ve had was cold simulacrums of things I was really looking forward to eating!” Crowley hissed in genuine distress.

“Oh, good Lord…” Zira gasped, suddenly so blinded by the proverbial lightbulb going off in her head she was surprised it wasn’t visible to the rest of the room. A passage from a herpetology text she had recently acquired at auction flashed through her mind.

Crowley watched in utter confusion and curiosity as Zira reached across the table to grab… something in front of the demon, and _voila_! Suddenly there was a plate of food in front of the bewildered redhead!

“Did you - how did you do that without me feeling anything?!”

“Antonia J Crowley, you beautiful fool…” Zira chuckled fondly as she watched her wife enthusiastically dig into her food.

“...wot?” Crowley froze, mouth full of marrow and eyes wide behind her glasses.

“I didn’t use a miracle, love. All I did was jiggle the plate around so the food moved.” The angel very nearly giggled at the expression of shock on the other woman’s face but managed to keep a lid on it by clearing her throat and taking a bracing sip of her wine instead. “Sweetheart, it was there in front of you the whole time. I suspect you can _smell_ your food just fine but you’re too far-sighted to _see_ your food. Like most species of large snakes,” she added smugly.

Red was a rather fetching color on Antonia J Crowley as a general rule, however, that didn’t generally apply to a blush as deep in color as the wine in her glass. Zira watched the thoughts churn through her beloved demon’s mind as if each one had been scrawled across her face in Magic Marker and then illuminated by spotlights.

“But… but m’not a snake. ‘M a demon,” she stammered slowly.

“Yes, love. But you’re also the Serpent of Eden and very few, if any, of the rules have _ever_ applied to you,” Zira replied with the patience of a saint.

“I… oh, my fucking G- Sa- _somebody_ …” Crowley started. “Are you telling me that I’ve been almost starving myself for 6000 bloody years and thought all waiters were just arseholes because ** _I just couldn’t see my food right in front of my fucking face_**? Zira. ZIRA... is that what you’re telling me?”

“Apparently so, love.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, Zira giving Crowley the time she needed to process this bombshell and Crowley taking the time to actually enjoy the delicious course in front of her while she tried to process said bombshell. Eventually the ginger broke the silence.

“Holy fuck… I owe _soooo_ many waiters extravagant tips…”

“And apologies.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos sustain me <3
> 
> Thanks for reading, loves! I hope you enjoyed my first Ineffable Wives piece! Maybe I'll even do another one... ;)


End file.
